


the only star that guided me (was you)

by spiritypowers



Series: "Book One: Moon" Event [3]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, In-Laws, Language Barrier, and all the sad implications after, but im here for it, this went in a direction i didnt expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24427543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritypowers/pseuds/spiritypowers
Summary: Amaya and Harrow reflect silently after Sarai's funeral. // For wordswithdragons' "Book One: Moon" event
Relationships: Amaya & Harrow (The Dragon Prince), Amaya & Sarai (The Dragon Prince)
Series: "Book One: Moon" Event [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760263
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	the only star that guided me (was you)

There’s a strange sort of emptiness after a funeral. Amaya’s always known silence, but it was filled in other ways. The way the corners of eyes crinkled. Mouths lifting in laughter. Her sister’s kind brown eyes, watching her with patience and pride. The warmth of her hugs, a collection she never knew she’d been keeping, growing up. She’s not sure what to do, now that she knows she can never add to it again.

She sees someone join her at her seat on one of the steps of the palace in her periphery, and turns to see Harrow, his eyes red and puffy, his head bowed. Amaya wonders if she looks just as pitiful. He looks up at her with a sad smile. “May I join you?” he says, and she nods. There’s not much either can say; he was never quite as fluent in sign as Sarai or their boys. But even if he was, what else is there to say?

Amaya smiles back faintly, even as her throat threatens to close up again. If Sarai was here, she’d be comforting them. Nudging each other to talk about it, bridging the language barrier once more. It’s funny, in a way that’s not funny at all, that when someone dies, the only person you want to talk to about it is the deceased. But maybe it only applies to Sarai, because when their parents died, she still had her big sister. Even though they’d loved their parents, Sarai had always been the person she’d turned to, looking back. The person that had most often helped her with skinned knees, or assignments from the tutors, or girl problems. Even though she’d been a little shit as a kid, sometimes, Sarai had always been patient. Always willing to stay by her side and be her voice. 

The cut on her face still stings as a tear rolls over it, but she doesn’t make a move to wipe it away. Still, her nose feels stuffy now and her throat hurts as she tries to swallow the lump in her throat.

She hadn’t cried at the funeral. She’s never been particularly against crying in public, but with thousands of onlookers, and the weight of having to also honour the sacrifice of other soldiers and the queens of Duren… She’d held it together, even during her speech, as her new translator—an old friend, at the very least—translated for her.

_ She was my hero. If the perfect sister ever existed, it was her. She was a shining light to our kingdom and to our family. She was always there for me. Not everyone is lucky enough to have their best friend be born into their family. But I was. _

There’s a strange bubble in her throat that seems to pop as more tears leak out, and it’s only when Harrow wraps an arm around her shoulders that she realizes she’s sobbing. There’s an instinct at first to be embarrassed—Harrow’s been a friend ever since he started courting her sister, but this is  _ weird _ —and then she thinks about how he knows this is what Sarai would have done for her, and something inside her cracks a little more.

He removes his arm briefly, and she almost smiles when she sees him slowly, clumsily, trying to sign. “I miss her too.”

Amaya knows she’s laughing now, even through her tears, from the way the air in her lungs stutters out as her hands form the question, “How long did it take you to learn that?”

He stares at her for a moment, then replies, speaking only, “I’m gonna have to look at the sign handbook she gave me later.”

They both laugh again, tears still in their eyes as he wraps his arm around her shoulders again. When she leans against his shoulder, it’s not the same—Sarai’s shoulders were always thinner and bonier—but it’s a comfort all the same, even if he isn’t the older sibling she’d grown up with. She almost smiles again; even after death, Sarai’s still looking out for her, leaving her an older brother to heal with.

It’s not the same. But maybe it can be enough.


End file.
